


Expectant

by GrapefruitSpritzer



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, F/M, Loss, Miscarriage, Morning Sickness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pregnancy, Rating May Change, maybe compilation? idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 01:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrapefruitSpritzer/pseuds/GrapefruitSpritzer
Summary: Ta-da! MC is pregnant. Short stories of the RFA finding out they're gonna be a parent.





	1. Zen

**Author's Note:**

> I realize there are 8000 other fics about this topic, but already wrote Zen's so I'm publishing anyway! I might write the other characters if I feel like it or if you guys express interest.
> 
> CW Ch 1: Purging referenced but no one actually has an eating disorder.

Zen stared into the full length bathroom mirror, scrupulously inspecting every inch of his form. This in itself wasn’t unusual at all – staying on top of his looks was part of his job after all, not to mention the confidence boost it typically gave him. He might not be the smartest, richest, cutest, or the most sensible of all his friends...but he was damn sure the best looking. Whatever his faults, at least he had that.

Except this time he wasn’t looking for reassurance. Instead of smiling at the beauty in front of him, his lips turned down, brows furrowed as he picked apart anything that could even remotely resemble a flaw. His pores looked a little bigger than usual, didn’t they? Maybe his bangs could use a trim? Was he losing definition in his abs? Less beer, more cardio?

Zen sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face in frustration. None of that was true and he knew it. He was as impeccably maintained as ever, yet...there had to be something, right? There had to be some reason why MC wouldn’t have sex with him anymore.

He didn’t think anything of it the first night she turned him down, or the second, or the third. She was tired, and he understood. The RFA parties had gotten progressively larger in the two years since she’d joined, and the most recent one had been bigger than even those Rika had organized. Coordinating that party was enough work to constitute a full-time job, except she had one of those too. After all day at the trust fund kid’s company, and all night party planning, it was no wonder she was too run-down to be intimate. His worry for her overshadowed his sexual frustration by a mile, so he backed off. He didn’t want to make her feel guilty on top of everything else.

It was a long few weeks leading up to that party, but sure enough it went off without a hitch. They’d raised an absurd amount of money, made more connections than ever before, and positioned the RFA as a serious player in the philanthropy world. MC had been absolutely flawless that night, all bright smiles and long legs, flitting around between guests so effortlessly she made even the CEO-in-line look awkward in comparison.

God, he wanted her.

When they got home he tried to show her how much, letting his hands trail up those incredible legs of hers, pressing hot kisses along the curve of her throat. He’d been so relieved when she kissed him back, when he felt the sharp bite of her fingernails digging into his shoulders, when she let out one of those breathy little gasps that drove him crazy with need. As soon as he began to fumble with the zipper of her dress though, she stopped him. Cut him off entirely. _Not tonight, Zenny. I’m_ _so tired. Tomorrow, okay?_

As disappointed – and _painfully hard_ – as he was, he still didn’t question her. Their sex life had been amazing up to this point, and now that the party was over he was eagerly anticipating getting back to that. But when tomorrow came and went, and the next day, and the next...the doubt began to slowly creep in.

Was she just...getting sick of him?

Zen froze, watching his own eyes widen in horror as the thought skittered across his mind. Was that it? They’d been together long enough that they’d fallen into a comfortable routine, knew everything about each other. Did that bore her? If he hadn’t changed, then maybe she did...

The sound of her key in the front door jerked him back, saved him from going too far down that rabbit hole. He shook his head to clear it, pulling his t-shirt back over his head and stepping out of the bathroom.

“Hey babe,” he called, announcing himself as he walked towards the living room. It was a habit he’d picked up to put her at ease. She’d never admit it, especially to Saeyoung, but Zen knew she still carried some anxiety from Saeran breaking into her apartment way back when. Jump scares hit her way harder than they should.

“Help!” she squeaked, followed by several soft thumping sounds. Zen turned the corner to see her struggling with two paper grocery bags, apples tumbling out onto the ground as one of the bags slowly ripped down the seam. He rushed over and took the bags from her, and she shot him a grateful smile as she bent down to pick up the fallen produce.

“Ugh, thanks. I’m all for saving the environment, but seriously, fuck paper bags,” she grumbled, leaning in to kiss his cheek as she dumped the apples into the undamaged bag. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good I guess,” Zen replied, carrying the bags into the kitchen and setting them on the counter. “Rehearsal went well. Still wish I was playing the lead, but...” he trailed off with a shrug.

MC shot him a sympathetic smile. “You’ll get it next time,” she assured him as she began to put the groceries away.

Zen opened his mouth to ask her about her day, but no sound came out as all of his attention was immediately diverted to the sight of her shirt riding up as she reached to put a box in the overhead cabinet. Some small part of his brain was mocking himself over the fact that a two inch gap of midriff hit him as hard as a strip tease, but well...it did. She just looked so good like that, body taut and stretched and vulnerable...it was way too easy to imagine his hand wrapped around her wrists, holding her in place as he explored her body, pushed her up against the counter, had her in all the ways he’d been starved of lately.

Before he fully realized what he was doing, Zen had moved behind her, pressing himself along the length of her back and wrapping his arms around her. She hummed happily, and encouraged by the sound, he bent down to kiss the crook of her neck, hands sneaking under the hem of her shirt to feel the softness of her skin.

As soon as his hands brushed against her stomach MC stiffened, pulling away as abruptly as if he’d burned her. Zen froze as the heavy weight of rejection crushed him once again.

“I...what...” he stammered, unsure what question he was even trying to voice. He hadn’t even done anything sexual. He’d just touched her. Did she not even want his touches anymore?

Did she not want him anymore?

MC winced as she took in the hurt and confusion on his face, but still took a step backwards anyway – like she was trying to escape.

“I just...don’t like that right now,” she said, unable to meet his gaze. “Sorry.”

Zen swallowed hard. He probably shouldn’t press further – he wasn’t sure he could handle the answer – but the question burst out of his mouth before he could reign it in. “Why not?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t,” she said, shaking her head dismissively. The flush creeping up her cheeks told a different story, however.

“Bullshit,” he challenged. He felt like an asshole for it, but he needed answers.

MC blinked up at him in surprise, then frowned. “What do you want me to say Zen?”

“The truth.”

He caught a flash of embarrassed anger in her eyes before she turned her head sharply, crossing her arms against her chest defensively.

“Because I’m getting _fat_ Zen! Okay? My fucking pants don’t even fit anymore and I feel like shit about it. Is that what you wanted to hear?” she spat, voice cracking at the end.

She didn’t give him a chance to answer, turning on her heel and running out of the apartment as soon as the words left her lips. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to answer her even if she had stayed. In all of the scenarios he had imagined, that one had never come close to entering his mind, and Zen’s brain couldn’t seem to process her words until several minutes after she was gone.

MC thought she was fat? What the _hell?_

Besides the fact that she was decidedly _not fat,_ Zen was completely bewildered by why she would react that way even if she was putting on weight. She was beautiful, so incredibly beautiful inside and out. He didn’t give a shit if she gained a few pounds, or lost a few pounds, or cut all her hair off, or grew a third nipple. He loved her more than anything or anyone. That wasn’t going to change over something so trivial.

Didn’t she know how gorgeous she was? Didn’t she know how desperately he wanted her?

Their arguments didn’t often escalate to the point where one of them stormed out of the house, but on the rare occasion that she did, MC had a very specific pattern of behavior. She would walk to the convenience store – not the closest one, but the second closest; the one that sold strawberry milk. She’d buy her milk and a packet of honey butter almonds – which she insisted were better than the chips, much to Seven’s dismay – and scarf them both on her walk back home. The whole event took around half an hour, which was just enough time for the sugar and exercise to chase off the worst of the negativity and let them talk normally.

It was also just enough time for Zen to down a beer or two – and, if things were _really_ bad, sneak off to the roof for a cigarette. And then brush his teeth vigorously so she wouldn’t find out about it. They’d established very early on in their relationship that smoking was one bad habit she wouldn’t tolerate.

Knowing this routine, Zen ~~impatiently~~ patiently waited for MC to return home, respecting her need for space. 20 minutes passed. 30. 40.

At the 45 minute mark, he got worried enough to spam her phone.

She didn’t answer his calls. She didn’t respond to his texts. He started to pull his shoes on, ready to go look for her, when he decided to check the RFA chat just in case. She probably wouldn’t be there, not if she was avoiding him, but maybe one of the others had talked to her.

Seven was the only one online, lighting up the chat with plans for a new “investment opportunity” for Jumin. Zen would normally have rolled his eyes and indulged in Seven’s trolling, if only to annoy the trust fund jerk, but today he had more important things on his mind.

 **ZEN:** have you talked to MC in the last hour?  
**707:** Well helloooo to you too~!  
**707:** and no, not since this morning.  
**707:** why?

Zen swore under his breath, glancing nervously at the time. It had been over an hour since she left now, and it was rapidly getting dark outside. If she just wanted to avoid him, fine, but he had to know she was safe.

Zen abruptly left the chat, and pulled up his contacts list.

“Uh...what’s up Zen?” the hacker answered, confused enough to drop the teasing tones he usually answered the phone with.

“Can you hack MC’s phone?”

“Errr...I mean, I _can_ , but I try not to hack our members. Why, what’s going on?”

“We got in a fight and she left. But she should have been back by now. She’s _always_ back by now,” Zen said, an edge of desperation creeping into his voice. “It’s getting dark and I’m worried something happened to her.”

Seven didn’t respond right away, and Zen sighed. “Look, I’m not asking you to spy on her for me. I don’t need any details. Just tell me if she’s okay or not. Please, Saeyoung?”

There was another moment of silence before Seven groaned obnoxiously. “Ugh, fiiiiiine. Hang on.”

The distinct sound of keys clicking filtered through the phone, and not even 90 seconds later Seven snorted in amusement.

“She’s fine. Jaehee sent a car to pick her up,” he said, crunching on what Zen assumed was a handful of honey butter chips. “I take it they aren’t gonna be watching your DVD’s at this sleepover then?”

Zen released the breath he’d been holding. “No, probably not,” he agreed, the sweet relief flowing through him worth every bit of Seven’s teasing. If she was with Jaehee, there was nothing to worry about. “Thanks man. I owe you one.”

“You actually owe me 72, but who’s counting?”

The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon by the time Zen finally succumbed to a fitful rest on the couch, where he’d kept vigil all night waiting for her to come home. As much as it relieved him to know she was safe, he was still anxious to clear the air between them. The more he thought about what she had said, the more it bothered him. He hated the idea that she thought she was unattractive – that she thought _he_ would find her unattractive – and he just wanted her here so he could prove how utterly wrong she was.

A familiar scent infiltrated his dreams, warm and comforting as it gently tugged him back to consciousness. He yawned, stretching his stiff limbs and blinking slowly at his surroundings. Zen was never a morning person, and it showed in how long it took his brain to transition from the land of dreams back into the real world. That’s right, he’d slept on the couch because he was waiting for...MC...

The events of the previous night hit him like a slap to the face, and he stood abruptly when he realized that the smell of coffee brewing meant she’d finally come home. Rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes, he hurried into the kitchen to greet her.

Except when he entered, she wasn’t there. “MC?” he called, looking around the space in confusion.

He hadn’t been imagining things – the coffee machine was running, and a half-eaten piece of toast sat on the counter, so she was definitely here somewhere. Well, either that or he was being robbed by a very casual, very hungry thief. Somehow he doubted it was the latter.

He called again when she didn’t reply, walking down the hallway towards their bedroom. He thought maybe she was changing her clothes, but a strange noise had him stopping in front of the bathroom door instead.

“MC?” he asked, knocking once.

“Yeah it’s me, hang – ” she began, but was cut off by a choking heave followed by a telltale splash. He’d been exposed to enough drunken benders in his life to recognize what was happening, and his brows furrowed in concern. Was she sick? She’d seemed fine last night.

Last night. An insidious thought crept into his mind, and his face paled. He remembered the look on her face when she had said she was getting fat, the shameful tears pricking her eyes as she ran out of the house. She had been so upset about her body, and now she was in the bathroom throwing up.

Working in an industry where physical appearances were so important, he knew very well the lengths some women went to to lose weight. The thought of his girl doing something like that made his own stomach lurch.

His body acted before he could think better of it, shoving the door open in sudden panic. MC was slumped over the toilet bowl, wide, watery eyes staring up at him in abject horror.

“Babe! Are you okay? Are you sick?” he blurted out, silently praying she’d say yes. Sick he could handle. Sick was better than...than that.

“Zen, get out of – ”

Ignoring her choked demand, Zen scrambled to sweep her hair back from her face as the next wave overtook her. He smoothed circles on her back with his other hand as she emptied the meager contents of her stomach into the bowl, murmuring words of comfort until it passed.

“Please leave Zen. I don’t want you to see me like this,” she pleaded, hiding her face in embarrassment.

“I don’t care about that. If you’re sick I want to help you feel better,” he argued.

“I’m not sick.”

Zen swallowed hard as he silently watched her splash her face and rinse her mouth. If she wasn’t sick then...then...

After a moment that felt like hours, MC finally turned around, looking up at him through dark lashes. “I’m not sick,” she repeated slowly, her lips quirking up into a shy smile. “I’m pregnant.”

Every awful thought barreling through Zen’s head came to an abrupt halt as his brain shut down entirely, woefully unequipped to process those two words. Pregnant? Like... _pregnant_ pregnant? With a _baby?_

His baby. He made a baby. Holy fuck. Holy. Fuck.

“I never considered it since I’m on the pill, but...well, nothing’s 100% effective right?” she continued, fidgeting nervously as she rambled. “Jaehee brought it up as a possibility when I told her how shitty I’ve been feeling lately, so I took a test this morning and...yeah.”

She shrugged lightly, like there was nothing more to say. He guessed there really wasn’t – the word pregnant itself pretty much summed up everything he needed to know – but his head was still spinning, mouth opening and closing uselessly with no sound getting out. _Say something, idiot!_

“You’re not...upset, are you?” she asked finally, unable to stand his silence any longer.

“Upset?” he repeated, the sudden worry in her eyes snapping him back to his senses. “No, god no! I’m just...I’m gonna be...”

“A daddy,” she supplied, her smile widening on the word.

Something powerful welled up inside him, a sweet ache in his chest that he could barely breathe around. Nothing could ever be more beautiful than she was in that moment, smiling at him like sunshine incarnate as she carried the most precious gift she could ever give him. He thought his heart would burst with the force of his love for her.

She was an angel. An absolute fucking angel, sent here just for him.

Zen’s face lit up like fireworks, taking her face in both his hands and enthusiastically kissing every inch of it as she dissolved into giggles.

When she’d been thoroughly ravished, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Say it again,” he whispered, tentatively running his fingers over the slight swell of her belly.

“You’re gonna be a daddy,” she repeated, eyes softer than he had ever seen them before.

“How did I ever get so lucky?”


	2. Yoosung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 2 CW: Referenced miscarriage, loss

Yoosung yawned, stretching his arms above his head as he sleepily shuffled into the kitchen. MC was awake already, as she usually was, humming to herself as she fried up omurice for breakfast.

"Morning handsome!" she greeted him brightly, leaning away from the stove to plant a kiss on his cheek as he walked past.

"Mornin'," he mumbled back, pulling open the fridge and peering inside. They were out of orange juice, of course. His dumb ass forgot to pick some up on the way home from work yesterday. Sighing to himself, Yoosung pulled out a carton of chocolate milk before collapsing onto one of the kitchen chairs.

"You really need to start going to bed earlier," MC scolded teasingly. "You have to catch up on all the sleep you're gonna miss once this baby gets here."

Yoosung swallowed hard, the milk turning sour in his mouth as he glanced at the calendar pinned to the wall. One more day.

One more day and they were in the clear.

MC followed his line of sight, frowning a bit as she turned back to the pan. "Sorry. I thought since we're so close, maybe we could start to acknowledge it."

"Don't apologize. Just...give me until tomorrow, okay?"

She trained her lips into a forced smile and nodded, not taking her eyes off of the pan. Yoosung felt bad for dampening her excitement, but he couldn't help it. They both knew what kind of devastation one day could bring.

Yoosung quietly watched his wife cook, eyes moving from her face to the slight swell of her belly. The first time he saw her this way he found it incredibly sexy – the extra thickness combined with that pregnant glow making her look like some divine goddess of fertility or something. He'd barely been able to keep his hands off her, and she'd felt the same, the fluctuating hormones making her bold in a way that he hadn't seen before – but  _absolutely_ appreciated.

The second time was different. More careful, more gentle – anything they could do to minimize risk. The doctors assured them that their loss wasn't caused by their enthusiastic love making, or tickle fights, or anything that either of them did. These things just happened sometimes. Yoosung knew that, of course – he was a doctor himself after all. Animals had miscarriages all the time, and humans were just animals with thumbs. Still, he couldn't shake the tiny voice in the back of his mind saying maybe if they'd just been more careful, things would have turned out differently.

Their increased diligence hadn't mattered, in the end. Neither did the extra vitamin supplements, meditation, and strict organic diet MC had tried with her third pregnancy. Or the bed rest with her fourth – with the twins.

They were both coping with it in different ways. MC was impossibly bright, displaying inhuman levels of positivity at all times. Yoosung knew it was a mask, but he couldn't in good conscious call her out on it. He wasn't even sure if she was doing it for him, or for herself. Or maybe it was for the baby – like pumping it full of serotonin would give it the strength to pull through this time. Like she could force their child to live through sheer will.

Yoosung wished he could have that kind of faith. Something to hold onto, to guide him through the void that had settled in his heart. Instead he was left with nothing but bleak hopelessness, and an all-consuming grief that threatened to choke him every time he walked past a playground or heard a tiny cry on the train.

It reminded him of the darkness that had consumed him when Rika died. Except then he'd at least been able to blame V, to muster up anger and condemnation to cope with the hole she left in his heart. But this time there was no one to be angry with, no one to blame. All he could do was let the emptiness wash over him, detach him from the cold reality that he had lost five children before they could even be born.

It was probably bad karma, but if Yoosung was honest with himself, he hadn't even wanted this pregnancy. He couldn't stand going through another loss, couldn't stand holding his sobbing, shaking wife as she bled out their hopes and dreams. The fear was so powerful that he had barely been able to perform in bed at all, his once enthusiastic libido reduced to half-heartedly going through the motions just so she wouldn't think he didn't want her anymore.

He did want her. She was just as beautiful, just as desirable as she ever was. His hangups had nothing to do with her, but he knew she'd take it that way. She was strong, stronger than he'd ever be – but as difficult as everything had been for him, he knew it had to be so much worse for her. He couldn't lay another worry on her shoulders.

So she was pregnant again. And tomorrow marked 14 weeks. The "safe zone". The doctors said that if she made it to 14 weeks, the pregnancy would be considered as normal as if she'd never had the prior miscarriages at all. They'd be able to announce to their friends and family, to start buying baby clothes and arguing over names. Yoosung would be able to rekindle that spark of hope long since smothered.

One more day.

Yoosung slammed the door to his office, ignoring the sympathetic look his receptionist was giving him through the glass. This was the part of the job he hated more than anything, the part he hadn't been prepared for when he decided to get into the field. He would happily express clogged anal glands and drain maggot-infested bite wounds all day if it meant he never had to deal with another shitty pet owner.

This awful bitch had let her dog's tumor grow until its left eye was completely blocked, the pressure on the nerve rendering him half-blind even if the eye itself could be saved. Of course she played dumb when questioned about it.  _I don't know what happened, he didn't have that yesterday!_ Sure he didn't. Fist-size tumors just appear overnight all the time.

Despite the gross negligence, that wasn't even the part that made Yoosung lose his cool. No, it was when he explained the treatment necessary to save her dog – and the associated costs – she flat out refused to pay it. Discussions of a payment plan fell on deaf ears. The woman drove to his office in a fucking Lexus and she was refusing to even consider a life-saving surgery for her pet.

It wasn't even like he was an older, sickly dog who had little chance of recovery. He was an otherwise healthy pup, barely a year old. Despite his pain and discomfort, he'd greeted Yoosung with soft licks to his palm, wagging his tail happily at the slightest hint of affection. He was such a good boy, a dog that deserved so much better than this heartless cow would give him.

It cut into his own livelihood, but Yoosung couldn't just leave this animal to suffer. In a last ditch effort to provide care, Yoosung offered to perform the surgery for free, only charging for supplies and medication. $300 max, maybe less. He wasn't sure if it was the partial blindness, or the dog's soft yellow coat, or sweet demeanor – for whatever reason, Yoosung felt a solidarity with this animal, a desperation to save him.

"I'm not paying $300 for a  _dog,"_ the woman scoffed, the oversized diamonds in her ears catching the light as she shook her head. "If surgery is the only option then just put him down."

"...what?"

She rolled her eyes, waving her hand in front of her face dismissively. "I forget the term you people use. Put him to sleep, lethal injection, whatever."

"You want me to euthanize a healthy animal over $300?" he managed to choke out through gritted teeth.

"Euthanize! That's it," she repeated, flipping open her designer purse. "That can't be more than, what, $20? Here, I'll pay cash."

"Get out of my clinic."

That finally gave her pause. "Excuse me?" she said, blinking up at him in shock.

"I'm offering to save your dog's life for less than the cost of your hideous purse, and you're telling me to just kill him because it's  _cheaper?_ What the hell is wrong with you?!" he spat, voice growing louder with every word as his anger took over entirely. "If you don't want animal abuse charges filed against you – which I assure you will cost far more than $300 – I'd advise you to get the fuck out of my clinic.  _Now."_

Thankfully she took him at his word and left, indignantly screaming threats the whole way out. He didn't know what he would have done if she'd refused. Called MC to come throat-punch her, probably. He would never hit a woman, but his wife would have no problem marching down here to deck a piece of shit like that.

Yoosung crashed into his desk chair, pulling out his phone in an attempt to distract himself long enough to calm down. He had a delicate operation ahead of him, and shaking hands didn't make for good incisions.

No one was in the RFA chat, so he settled for flipping through the catalog of new LOLOL armors they released that morning. Not like he could buy them or anything. He was going to be in the hole a few hundred bucks now thanks to his lovely clientele.

Maybe Jumin would front the cash if he told him he was saving a cat instead of a dog.

His phone began to buzz in his hand, and a second later Seven's face popped up on his screen. Well, he asked for a distraction didn't he? Distraction was the hacker's middle name.

"Hey Seven."

"Yooooooosung!~" he crooned into the phone. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Getting ready to cut a tumor out of a dog's face. What're you doing?"

"Lookin' up mobiles. I can't decide between cats or spaceships so I'm gonna get both. Which one do you want at your house?"

Yoosung blinked, not processing the random question. Why would he need another cell phone, and why would Seven buy him one? "Uh, what?"

"Cats or spaceships? I'll keep the other one for sleepovers at Uncle Seveny's!"

Realization hit him like a brick to the head. Not mobile as in phone – mobile as in baby toy.

"But...how...did you hack MC's medical records?" Yoosung accused, irrationally upset by the turn this conversation had taken. Seven shouldn't know MC was pregnant. No one should know. They'd made the mistake of telling everyone the first time, and the process of  _untelling_ them was...well, he damn sure didn't want to go through that again.

"Seriously? No Yoosung, I don't make a habit out of invading my friends' privacy," Seven replied, voice abruptly serious – and a little hurt, Yoosung noted with a twinge of guilt. "MC told me herself."

"She  _what?"_

"Why are you so surprised? She tells me everything."

He had a point. MC had always been close to Seven – so close that it made him jealous more often than he'd care to admit. Still, he couldn't believe she'd spilled about this. She of all people knew why they had to keep it a secret.

Yoosung sighed, burying his face in his free hand. "I don't know dude. I don't want to think about that stuff yet."

The line was silent for long enough that Yoosung checked his display to see if the call had dropped. Seven was never quiet.

"You know, the way you're acting is really making her feel like shit."

Huh?

"I get that you're having a hard time, but dude...think about how hard this is for  _her,"_ he continued before Yoosung had a chance to respond. "All she wants is to be excited with you, but she can't because you won't even acknowledge she's actually pregnant."

"Yeah, well, I have my reasons," Yoosung snapped back, irritated. What the hell did he know about it? Seven had no idea what he'd been through. Let him go through the hell of the last two years and see if he can find it in himself to entertain any more false hope.

"I know you do. More than one," Seven replied, voice softening. Yoosung swallowed hard as the familiar grief started to close his throat once again. "She told me. And I'm sorry, I really am. But Yoosung...if you keep letting your past rob you of your present, you'll never be able to move on."

"Believe me, I know that better than anyone," he murmured at the end, so quietly Yoosung wasn't sure he'd heard him correctly.

Logically, Yoosung knew Seven was right. He'd seen MC's growing excitement every day they got closer to the magic 14 week mark. He knew she had hope, and he could see how his negativity was hurting her. But he had never been good at moving on, and he was even worse at trying to keep his feelings bottled up inside. He wasn't as strong as her.

He didn't deserve her. But he had to do his best to come close, at least.

"I'll try," he said finally. "I gotta go."

Yoosung closed his eyes, pressing his palms into them hard enough that bursts of color appeared in the blackness, like he could physically push the cynicism out of his head. Taking a deep breath, he resolved to be better. For her, and for...for their baby.

But first, he had a dog to save.

Nearly four hours later, Yoosung stripped off his gloves, looking down at the sleeping pup with a satisfied smile on his face. The surgery had gone well – he'd been able to save the eye after all, and while he'd need to wait for the labs to come back to know for sure, the tumor didn't appear to cause any other complications. The little guy might even get his sight back at some point.

This feeling was why he'd become a vet in the first place.

As his tech moved the dog to recovery, Yoosung sank back into his office chair, rolling out his stiff neck and thinking up ways to convince MC that they should keep him. While she loved animals herself, their house wasn't very big – and with a baby on the way it was going to get even smaller. Still, there was just something about that dog that made him feel like it was meant to be  _his._

Yoosung picked up his phone from where he'd left it on his desk during surgery, still unsure what he was going to tell MC but knowing it was better to do it sooner than later. When the display blinked on, however, his brow furrowed. Four missed calls?

He tapped the notification for his voice mail and smiled when MC's voice filtered through the speaker.

"Hey sweetie! Could you pick up some antacids on your way home? That omurice isn't sitting right with me and I don't want to miss movie night. Love you!"

Yoosung scribbled the request down on a post it before deleting the message. He'd forgotten about her plans to go over Jaehee's tonight to watch Zen's newest musical. Oh well, fried chicken delivery and LOLOL in his underwear didn't sound like a bad night at all.

The next message began to play. "Hey...do you think you'd be able to leave work early today? I'm really not feeling well and need some Yoosung cuddles. I'm going to cancel with Jaehee, so...let me know. Love you, bye."

He frowned, glancing at the timestamp of the call. Two hours ago. Cursing himself for leaving his phone in his office, he skipped to the next message.

"I know you're busy but can you please call me? It's getting worse and I'm starting to get worried. It's probably nothing but I just need you here. Call me back as soon as you get this."

Yoosung already had his coat on by the time the last message began to play – and when it did, he felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

"Seven's taking me to the hospital. I'm...it's over."

_It's over._

For the first time since MC showed him the positive pregnancy test, Yoosung felt the veil of dull apathy lift, replaced by pure, unbridled panic. It wasn't over. It couldn't be. 14 weeks was  _fucking tomorrow,_  and…

No. No. This wasn't happening. He refused to let this happen again.

Yoosung took off at a run in the direction of the hospital, frantically dialing out. MC didn't pick up. Neither did Seven. Spitting frustrated curses, he picked up the pace, ignoring the near immediate burn in his legs. For the millionth time in his life, Yoosung wished he had Zen's physique going for him.

Even with his less-than-ideal top speed, it was quicker to run than wait for the bus, and within minutes he'd burst through the automated sliding doors of the ER. The middle aged receptionist, clearly desensitized to the sight of frantic family members demanding to find their loved ones, calmly pulled up MC's record and paged a nurse to escort him.

Yoosung pressed the nurse for information as they walked through the long, sterile white hallways of the hospital, but he had nothing. He was an ER nurse, he explained – and MC was in the maternity ward. Yoosung nodded tightly, lips pressed together in a thin line, afraid that if he used his voice it would crack. If she was in maternity then it really wasn't just a bad omurice.

After what felt like forever they finally stopped in front of a patient door, where a maternity nurse stepped in to give him a brief overview of her condition. He tried to listen, he really did, but his impatience to just get in there and see her was overriding his desire to listen to medical jargon. He caught a few key words –  _hemmoraging, possible abruption, wait for the ultrasound technician –_  but his attention was drawn instead to the small pane of glass set into the door.

Seven was posted up in a chair by her side, murmuring something as he brushed sweat-soaked bangs out of her face. Yoosung waited for the familiar pang of jealousy to hit, that dark possessiveness that he occasionally had to shove back down. But it never did. Despite the fact that his best friend was literally taking his place right now, he couldn't feel anything but glad that at least someone was there for her. It helped assuage the guilt that he hadn't been.

They both looked up as he stepped into the room, and his heart broke at the expression that flitted across their faces at the sight of him. Seven looked overwhelmed with worry, with a hint of frustration behind it. Fair enough – he'd expected that. But what he hadn't expected was how hollow MC's eyes looked as she stared up at him. There were no tears, no puffy eyelids swollen from crying, no anger or fear or sadness reflected in her gaze – just an all-consuming emptiness that made his heart hurt far more than her crying ever had.

She looked like she'd given up entirely. Is that...is that what he'd looked like all this time? God.

Seven stood as he approached, giving up the bedside chair and making up some excuse about going to the bathroom. Yoosung didn't miss the look he shot him as he passed though. It practically screamed  _help her._

"I'm so sorry baby," he gushed immediately, taking her hand in his as he sat. "I was in surgery and left my phone in the office. I'm sorry, I should have..."

"It's fine," she cut him off, her tone so flat it gave him goosebumps. "Wouldn't have changed anything."

He swallowed hard, searching her face, wishing he could wipe that expression off of it. There was only one thing he could think of to say though. As much as he hated to, he had to know.

"Is it...did they confirm it's a loss?"

She was quiet for a long moment, the only indicator she'd heard him at all a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth. Finally she exhaled in a shaky, bitter laugh that sounded so wrong coming from her mouth.

"No, but I've had enough of them to know."

He opened his mouth to respond, to say that if it hadn't been confirmed then maybe...but how could he possibly argue with her when she looked like that? He needed to comfort her, not push his own burgeoning hope and fear onto her. He needed to do something to make this better for her.  _Anything to make this better for her._

"You were right," she continued, staring at the ceiling, not meeting his gaze. "You were right all along. I was stupid for hoping this time would be different."

God, her voice. He'd rip his own heart out to never hear her sound like that again. His eternally optimistic angel had fallen to despair, and he was powerless to make it better.

 _No._  That was old Yoosung talking, stupid crybaby Yoosung that let life just steamroll him all the time, the kid that always needed saved. That wasn't who he wanted to be anymore. He was her husband, dammit, and he was going to man the fuck up if it killed him.

"No you weren't!" Yoosung insisted, catching her cheek with his fingers and turning her head towards him. Only when she'd brought her gaze back to his did he continue. "You weren't stupid, I was. I should have spent every day of the last 14 weeks smiling with you, and I'm sorry I was too much of an idiot to see that until now."

Her eyes flicked rapidly between his, studying him for...something, he didn't know what exactly. Either way, he let his earnestness shine through, silently begging her to believe him, to realize that he finally understood what kind of man he needed to be. That he was ready to be the partner she deserved, not a petulant little boy too caught up in his own agony to support her the way she needed him to.

"It's gonna be okay, MC. I promise."

MC opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by three rapid knocks at the door. Yoosung's head snapped up as the door swung open, ready to tear into Seven for interrupting – but his jaw snapped shut when he realized it was a doctor wheeling in an ultrasound machine.

"I hear you're having a difficult night, Mrs. Kim. I apologize for the wait. May I take a look?"

MC nodded, and Yoosung watched with his heart in his throat as the doctor spread blue gel along her stomach. Her hand in his was so cold, and he squeezed it reassuringly. It was going to be okay. Right?

If there was a god, it would be okay.

It felt like hours passed as the doctor moved the wand along her abdomen, giving noncommittal hums occasionally but offering zero information either way. Yoosung felt like he was going crazy. He couldn't even use his own medical training to interpret anything privately, since the computer screen faced away from them. He knew it was out of consideration – if the baby was really gone, it was a small blessing to not have to see evidence of it, but not knowing was  _fucking killing him._

Just when Yoosung was about to speak up, the doctor glanced at the two of them with a concerned expression. His stomach immediately dropped, and he took a deep breath to push through the rising nausea.

"Mrs. Kim, what you're experiencing is called a sub-chorionic hematoma. What that means is that a small portion of your placenta has pulled away from the uterine wall, and that's what is causing your bleeding. I'm afraid you'll probably need to stay on bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy."

Yoosung stared at the doctor for what was probably longer than an acceptable period of time, then at MC for even longer. She did the same. They both turned back to her simultaneously.

"You mean...the baby is okay?" MC whispered, voice rough with emotion.

"Yes Mrs. Kim, your baby is doing just fine. Would you like to see her?"

_"Her?"_

The doctor smiled, flipping the computer screen around to face them. "Well, it's still a little early to be certain, but I got a pretty good look. I'd give it 10:1 odds you'll have a little girl in a few months."

Yoosung didn't even allow himself to blink, afraid that if he closed his eyes for a second this would all be gone. The doctor kept talking absently, pointing out the spine, the placenta, the spot where MC was bleeding from – but he didn't register any of it. All he could focus on was the rapid heartbeat displayed in front of him, the wriggling movements so tiny MC couldn't even feel them yet.

His daughter.

He didn't realize he was crying until MC wiped the tears from his cheek. He jerked at her touch, looking down into her face to see her eyes flooded with tears as well, a brilliant, beautiful smile taking over her face. He scooped her up into his arms, openly weeping into her shoulder, not even caring when the doctor politely excused herself to let them have their moment.

It was all going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter hits really close to home for me, so while I appreciate constructive critiques on all of my fics, please none on this chapter unless it's strictly writing based, not content based. Thanks!


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